


Prompt Me Baby, One More Time

by mcgeekles



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgeekles/pseuds/mcgeekles
Summary: A series of Tiva oneshots inspired by prompts or requested by readers.  Originally posted 2013-2016.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Kudos: 21





	1. Can I kiss you?

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot takes place after Good Cop, Bad Cop. It was originally posted on Tumblr about 6 years ago.

The dust was heavy in his throat, on his skin. Sweat and tears ran tracks through the caked on mess of dust, dirt and blood on their faces, the stale air in the back of the carrier only serving to remind them of the cell where they had all spent far too long. They almost lost themselves there. One of them did. The strongest of them all, the most resilient. She left a part of her spirit in the desert, stolen by the men who could have taken so much more. 

Tony looked to his right, where Ziva was sitting silently beside him, eyes searching but empty. He had seen glimpses of emotion from her since their journey back home began. Fear was the most prevalent, followed closely by relief and incredulity. Yet the one that was missing, the one that he had hoped to catch, was safety. Gibbs had embraced her to lukewarm results, McGee had given her shoulder a squeeze to the same effect. But Tony had refrained. He’d left a lot of himself on the floor of that cell, confessions that he was certain would be lost to the chaos of the escape. Though he had no idea where he stood with Ziva, of what she thought of him or the shambles of their relationship, he was losing the will to battle his urge to touch her. 

He glanced down where her hand was resting on her thigh, strangely lax in comparison to the rest of her body. He reached over, and gently took it, enveloping it in his. She surprised him then. She turned her hand over in his grip, her palm sliding against his, and laced their fingers together. He smiled despite himself and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. To his delight, she squeezed back. 

———-

She disappeared from his life nearly the moment they sweep her into NCIS. To her absolute disdain, they insist on taking her to the hospital, where they have to hydrate her, stick her full of needles, and take more blood for samples than he thought she could reasonably give. He laid in a hospital bed as they attempt to clean out the drugs that had lit fire in his veins, and by the time they were finished with him, she was already gone. 

Gibbs told him that he’d taken her to his house, though he wasn’t sure how long she’d stay. She was already asserting her need for independence after so long in captivity. Hiding herself away from the world would not help matters, she insisted. Though this assertion was betrayed the first night she slept alone, her nightmares filling the air with agonizing screams. She refused to let herself burden her family and friends, and though the aim was to re-enter the world, she managed to hide herself away in the Navy lodge. Life returned to status quo, the empty desk still taunting them.

———

She made an appearance at NCIS three weeks later. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched her from across the bullpen, pitching an idea as though nothing had changed. Her hair was pulled back, but still held it’s natural curl. She was a bit fuller, with a bit more color. He could only stare, marveling at her presence in front of him. He could faintly hear McGee mutter something about getting a nutter butter, but he was entirely too wrapped up in her. Their interaction was cut far too short, Abby’s petulance overriding their need for an honest conversation. He watched her walk away, but thanked god that this time they knew where to find each other. 

She did find him later, in the men’s room. Though the conversation started with a joke and a slightly cold shoulder, her apology was incredibly sincere. The betrayal, the lies, they all faded away as the words flowed off her tongue. She felt the wall that she had built between them slowly crumbling away. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, bridging the gap she’d forced between them. She could only hope that it would be enough. 

She returns to work the following day, and everything felt right in the universe. He looked up, and her face was there, filling the void that had driven him nearly to madness a few months before. They fell back into their partnership flawlessly, teasing McGee with gentle barbs, bantering back and forth across the bullpen, throwing glances between their desks. Though her life was still very much in limbo, life seemed to get back to normal. 

Then the world turned on it’s head. The last thing she needed was someone asking questions about her journey to Somalia, to poke the still open wounds from her time there. But Vance pries them open and she has to crawl inside, reliving the horror of the Damocles, the death of the soldier she couldn’t save. The betrayal of her father is a blow she did not think she would have to endure, and yet when Malachi showed up in the interrogation room, she knew exactly what happened. She was never supposed to succeed. He would rather have she lay there to die in the desert, sparing the need for a clean up. Quick and dirty, that was how he preferred it. In that moment she lost her last tie to her homeland, to the little family she had left. 

Gibbs, to his credit, was more of a father to his team than any of their own could have been. With whispered reassurances and a gentle kiss, she knew that his home was her home now. That he would take care of her. She need not make apologies for the person she used to be. Yet still she found herself cowering in a stairwell not an hour later. She hated that with her new life came a resurgence of emotion that she had spent many years forcing away into a box. Now she was overwhelmed by the feelings that washed over her. Sitting criss-cross in the corner of the landing, the took deep breaths, choking down the tears that wanted to spill over. She chewed her bottom lip in defiance, trying to stop her chin from trembling. The telltale squeak of the third floor door hinges alerted her to an incoming agent. For her sake she hoped it was a member of her team. The looks of pity from nearly everyone in the building were suffocating. Her own team had an idea of what actually happened, and she could see them trying to keep themselves from feeling bad for her at the very least. 

A moment later she felt a leg brush against her as Tony sank to the ground with a groan. His knee was protesting, that was certain. She turned her head to look at him, not even bothering to wipe the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes against her will. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked without a greeting. 

“No.” she stated. 

“Didn’t think so,” he answered casually. “But I wanted to check up on you anyway.” 

“Thank you,” she paused. “After all that has happened, it is good to still have my partner.” 

“Yeah. I’m happy to have my partner back too.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just sitting next to each other, breathing easily. 

“It was hard, when you were gone, you know?” 

She looked to him, surprised that he was opening this conversation, but said nothing. 

“Nothing was right, without you. There was no one to tease Probie with, no one to absorb Gibbs’ rage before it hit me. I never had a pen for interviews,” he said semi-seriously. 

Ziva chuckled. 

“But really…it was like I couldn’t function. I would reach for you and you weren’t there, or look over to your desk, waiting for you to scold me for something and there was just air.” He looked distressed at the memory, his forehead creased, mouth fixed into a frown. He reached into her lap, cautiously taking her hand. 

“I missed my partner.” 

“I missed you too.” Another period of silence followed.

“I do not think I can thank you enough for what you did for me,” she said sincerely.

“I had to do it.” 

“You did not. Tony, my own father did not even look for me. He did not even try. And yet months after I left. After I had…jammed a pistol in your chest…you were there. The first kind face I had seen in months. And you rescued me.” 

“I couldn’t leave you behind, Ziva. I never could. If I had known what was gonna happen to you, I would have walked off that plane and dragged you back here kicking and screaming.” 

“I would have hated you,” she whispered.

“I could live with that if I knew you were safe.” 

“Tony…” 

“But that doesn’t matter. Because you’re here now. And everything is going to go back to normal.” 

“Nothing about me is normal anymore, Tony. I am…damaged. Director Vance said so himself.” 

He thinks for a moment, pushing back the immediate anger toward director Vance for putting a voice to her internal turmoil. But he can’t lie to her. She is damaged. With her history, of course she was torn up inside, and so was he. With the lives they led it was inevitable. “Everyone is a little damaged, Ziva,” he said honestly, “It doesn’t make them any less of a person.” 

“I believe I am the exception to that rule,” she said sadly. 

He squeezed her hand, a gesture of reassurance, and to get her attention. 

“Look, I don’t know what you went through over there. I can make some guesses and fill in some gaps, but I know it was hell. I know you thought you wouldn’t survive it. You said yourself you were ready to die. And you could have given up. A lesser person would have. But you didn’t.” 

She shook her head. 

“If you’re having doubts about whether or not your ninja abilities are still intact,” he joked, “you have nearly given me a heart attack with your stealth moves at least twice in the past 2 weeks.” 

She cracked the smallest of smiles, but continued to shake her head. She didn’t deserve his empathy, his delicate care. “No one should want to love me, Tony. If they knew…if you knew what I have been through…you would not want to be close to me. You would not give yourself to me so willingly.” 

“What happened to you has changed you. No one can deny that.” 

Her gaze dropped, her eyes half-lidded. 

“All the crap we go through changes us. It’s how we react that matters” a pause, “You’ll always be my ninja. And you’re going to leave the desert behind you in the dust.” 

“Thank you.” she murmured. 

“You deserve to be wanted, Ziva. To have a good life. Even if you can’t see it yet.” 

Their eyes locked, and she nodded, just one slight of her head. Their heads rested closely together against the cinderblock wall behind them, only inches away. Their hands were still joined between them, with Tony gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. He moved his head forward an inch, his nose very nearly brushing hers. He reached up, brushing her hair away from her face and gently tucking it behind her ear, letting his palm rest against her cheek, marveling at how tiny she was in comparison. She stared back at him, his eyes full of caring and sincerity. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, and she leaned into his touch, if only slightly. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked gently. 

Ziva nodded slowly, visibly hesitant. 

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to back out if she changed her mind. He kissed her softly, their lips barely brushing at first before he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers. The kiss was sweet, only a few short seconds, but it caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, flooding her with a feeling she didn’t believe she would ever have the privilege to feel again. 

“You just proved me right. A year ago you would not have been so careful with me.” 

“A year ago you would have given me a black eye for trying that,” he shot back. 

“A year ago I was confused. And hurt.” 

“I know.” 

“I still am.” She said, dropping her gaze to their joined hands. 

“I know. You are damaged, Ziva. And so am I. The only way to work through all our shit is to share it with the people that love us.” 

“I am not ready.” she whispered. 

“I know. But I’ll be here when you are.” 

They sat in silence, a wordless agreement settling between them. Their time would come.


	2. Breaking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Someone tries to get into the wrong apartment when drunk. This one takes place in AU land

Ziva was drunk. She tried to deny it, tried to pass herself off as a sober individual, but she could feel it in her bones. Or, more accurately, she couldn’t feel her cheeks. She stumbled across the threshold of her apartment building, stumbling as she caught her heel on the metal lip. She let out a noise that was half groan half whine and made her way to the stairs. She looked up at them with a sad expression, knowing that it would be the struggle of her life to make it up them. She made a mental note she was certain to forget to stop getting into shot contests with men twice her size. She held tight to the railing as she climbed the stairs, the first landing posing a challenge as she tried to negotiate how many steps she had to take to get to the next step. She shed her shoes, taking both heels in one hand and holding the railing with the other. 

She fared only slightly better without her four inch heels, her feet felt funny now that they were flat and her balance was thrown. She managed to stumble up two more flights of stairs without encountering any elderly neighbors or judgmental mothers when she reached her floor. She made her way to her apartment door on slightly wobbly legs, dropped her shoes and searched for her keys, which thankfully were still in her pocket where she left them. She fumbled with the doorknob, her fingers clumsy and hot as she tried to get the key in. After a few tries she grew frustrated, shoved the key in her pocket and ripped a bobby pin from her hair. She snapped it in half and managed to pick the lock with far more efficiency than her key had afforded. 

She sighed in relief as she finally made her way through the door, kicking her shoes in gracelessly. She slammed the door shut behind, making her wince and shush herself. She shed her coat, tossing it in the general direction of the couch and pulled the remaining pins out of her hair, leaving them on the kitchen counter. She didn’t bother undressing, simply fell into bed, snuggling up into her pillow and slipping under the covers. She would deal with all of the mess in the morning, when she would hate herself for every decision she made tonight.

————

Tony was drunk. His head was fuzzy and his fingers were doing this weird tingling thing he wasn’t a huge fan of. His buddies were never ones for moderation, nor were they stingy about placing bets on drinking contests. This chick at the bar had taken him for all he was worth, causing him to drown his sorrows for the sheer humiliation of being beat by a girl in front of his buddies. He ran a hand down his face as he looked at the stairs in his apartment building. Stairs were hard. Stairs were the enemy of those who weren’t in any shape to be even walking on flat ground. Why he chose willingly to live in a building without an elevator would be the question he contemplated as he dragged himself up all three flights of stairs to his apartment. 

When he reached the door, he thanked his lucky stars that he’d had the good sense to take them back from Matt before he dropped him off at the curb. He frowned as he struggled to get the key in the hole, leaning his forehead against the door because being upright was just so much work. The door swung in and he groaned as he stumbled in after it. He knocked the door closed as he tried to kick his shoes off, letting it slam closed behind him, making him wince. He’d have words with his neighbor about that in the morning. Mrs. Navarro wouldn’t be happy with him. He managed to toe off his shoes and tossed his jacket in the direction of the couch. He unbuttoned his pants as he walked toward the bedroom, pulling them off as he walked and left them in the threshold. He walked the few steps to his bed, groaning in relief as his head hit the soft pillow and he crawled under the covers. He’d be in pain in the morning, but he’d enjoy his way too comfortable bed for the time being.

He could hear his blood pumping in his ears before he even opened his eyes the next morning.

The rays of sun peeking through the window were agony as he opened his eyes even a fraction of the way, and he snapped them shut again. He ran his hand over his face as he tried to force himself to wake up, to hope that the pounding ache in his head and in his bones was some kind of nightmare. It wasn’t though, he learned as he tried to open his eyes again. He let out a pained sigh through his cotton-mouth dry throat and realized more than anything he just wanted a shower. He pushed himself off the bed, his stomach flipping uncomfortably as he stood; horizontal was so much better than vertical. Through half-lidded eyes he made his way to the bathroom to try to wash the stench of tequila and bad decisions off him.

When he emerged from the shower twenty minutes later, his post-binge drinking ritual was interrupted by the shrill ring of his cell phone.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Tony said as he picked up. “I thought we weren’t on call this weekend?”

“Hello to you, too. Apparently Gannet’s team already caught a case, they need us to pick up the slack.”

“Do they really need us at…” he looked at the alarm clock on his side table, but caught sight of something he wasn’t expecting, a head of dark hair splayed on his pillow. “Oh shit.”

“Tony what is it?”

“Aaahhhh…” he contemplated telling a lie, but his hangover-addled brain came up with nothing. “There’s a woman in my bed and I have no idea how she got there.”

“So just a typical Saturday morning for you, then?”

“Shut it, Probie, I really have no idea who this woman is. I don’t remember bringing anyone home from the bar with me.”

“Well you should figure it out soon, Gibbs wants to leave for the crime scene in 20.”

“What am I supposed to do with this woman?” Tony asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

“I’m sure whatever you normally do will be fine, Tony.”

“I don’t usually do this, probie. I usually remember bringing them home at the very least.”

“Good luck with that. See you in 20.”

“I’m gonna need longer than that, McGee.” He could hear the smile in McGee’s voice.

“I’ll cover for you if you do my paperwork for a week.”

“Done. Text me the address I’ll meet you there.” He hung up with little fanfare and stood staring at the woman in question in his bed.

He had no idea where she’d come from. She was dressed as far as he could tell, and when he’d woken up so was he. So if she wasn’t a one night stand, what the hell was she doing there? He watched the woman as he dressed, deciding that waking her up while he was naked was probably the wrong way to go. He finished dressing as casually as he could pull off on a weekend work day and took to trying to wake the woman up. He placed his arm on her shoulder, shaking her a little less than gently. She didn’t stir. He shook a bit more vigorously and said “Hey, wake…”

The woman shot up to sitting, grabbing Tony’s forearm from her shoulder and attempting to get him into a half-nelson. He cried out in surprise as she twisted his arm behind his back, catching him off guard.

“Who are you and why are you in my apartment?” She asked harshly, Tony’s face pressed into the mattress.

“Tony. I was about to ask you the same thing!” he gritted out.

“Why do you not know why you are in my apartment?” she demanded.

“Probably because we’re in MY apartment, not yours,” Tony said, his voice muffled slightly by the comforter.

“That is ridiculous, why would I be here if I did not live here?”

“Kind of what I’m trying to figure out. So if you could let me go, that would be great,” Tony barked. His patience with this woman had already run out. She released him and stood up from his bed, tugging down her skirt along the way. She looked around the apartment, forehead creased and eyes half lidded, clearly as hungover as he was. Regardless of that, Tony had to force himself to choke down the noise of approval threatening to creep up his throat as he got a good look at the woman for the first time. Her legs were long, tanned and clearly in great shape. Even if he couldn’t see her from behind he suspected her ass was out of this world. She had flared hips and a small waist, accentuated by her tight black dress. She was, in a word, gorgeous. He was thanking his lucky stars that they hadn’t had a one night stand. If they ever shared a bed again, he wanted to remember it.

“How did I end up here?” She demanded.

“That is an excellent question. Brilliant, if I do say so myself,” he mocked, thrusting his hands out to the side in a “hell if I know” motion.

“There is no need to be so hostile.”

“Says the woman who just attacked me in my own home,” he shot back.

“I did not know it was your home at the time. You could have easily been an intruder.”

“You are the intruder here.”

“I said that you could have been, not that you are.”

“We’re going around in circles here, I don’t have time for this,” he said, walking out of his bedroom and into the hall. She was quick to follow.

“If I am not in my apartment, where am I?”

“On Beacon Ave. Apartment 316.”

She stopped abruptly, her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Oh, that’s all you have to say?” he asked as he turned back to face her.

“This was my mistake…I was clearly confused last night.”

“And where are you supposed to be?”

“In apartment 416.”

“So what, in a drunken haze you thought this was your apartment, came in and climbed into my bed?”

“That seems to be the case, yes.”

“Your key doesn’t open my door, so how did you get in?”

“I likely picked your lock.”

“You picked my lock? With what?”

“I left my lock picking kit at home, so I most likely used a hair pin. From what I recall it was quite easy. Simple design.”

“You have a lock picking kit?”

“You do not?”

“What is it you said you did, again?”

“I did not say.”

He stared at her for a moment, the woman who broke into his apartment and was likely a criminal based on what little information he had. 

He walked out of the hallway and into the kitchen, where he promptly went to the refrigerator and took out club soda, hot sauce and a lemon. He poured all of them into a glass together, and Ziva couldn’t help but cringe.

“What is that?” she asked, disgusted.

“This is an old family tradition, the DiNozzo defibrillator. Cures a hangover like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Want one?”

“No,” she said “Thank you. My family’s hangover cure is a much simpler affair.”

“And what would that be?”

“Jasmine tea with lime.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“Says the man who is planning on drinking lemon juice and hot sauce.”

“It works, alright? And I have to get to work.”

“What do you do that you must rush out on a Saturday morning?”

“I’m a federal agent.”

“Which agency?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Perhaps I want to make sure that you are not lying to me.”

“You’re the one who walked into the wrong apartment, I don’t have to justify myself to you. BUT, since you asked so nicely, I work for NCIS.”

“Hmm. Not good enough for the FBI?”

“The FBI is our sister agency, and our case closure rate is way higher than theirs,” he said in a thank-you-very-much tone.

“Hmph, from the way they talk about you, I believe they would beg to differ,” she said off-handedly.

“Okay, Who are you, exactly?”

“Why do you want to know? So you can gossip about the FBI?”

“You know my name, where I work, I think it’s only fair I get to learn yours.”

“I am Ziva, I work for the Israeli Embassy.”

Israeli. That explained the accent. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t think it was incredibly hot, just like the rest of her.

“Ah, So that’s how you know so much about inter-agency cooperation.”

“I would hardly call it cooperation if both parties make it as difficult as possible for the other.”

“Healthy rivalry.”

“I am sure.” She laughed drily.

She looked up at the man whose bed she’d occupied that morning only to see him smiling back at her. She smiled softly, but realized that there was nothing left to say.

“I should go.” She said. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She pushed herself away from the counter she was leaning on and started to make her way to the door.

“You’re very welcome. I hope my bed was to your liking,” he said, raising his glass to her.

“It was, thank you.” She picked up her shoes from the floor and stood, turning back to give him one last smile.

“I will see you around, yes?”

“You will.” Tony said with a charming smile.

She opened the door

“Ziva,”

She stopped, turned back to him.

“If you happen to find yourself in my bed again…I wouldn’t complain.”

She chuckled “Perhaps you should ask me to dinner first.”

He opened his mouth.

“ah-ah,” she stopped him. “Not now,” she smiled slyly, “I will see you soon, Agent DiNozzo.”

He beamed, “Count on it”

She narrowed her eyes at him teasingly, licking her lip. She turned on her heel and shut the door behind her, his heart fluttering in her wake.


	3. Smudges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: She peered down at the half-smudged numbers on her hand

Thump thump thump

The bass reverberated through her body, matching the beat of her heart. 

Thump thump thump

The gyrating bodies all around her were feeling the beat in a very different part of them, pulsing with every new melody that poured through the speakers of the club. She stood near the bar, her companions somewhere close by, she hoped. The girls, far younger than she, were working on the same mission project she was, and had somehow convinced her to abandon what they dubbed her ‘nun-like’ lifestyle for just a little while, and to come out with them in Tel Aviv. She’d rolled her eyes and laughed, claiming that she was far too old to be accompanying them to a club, but after a lot of insistence, _Ziva please? It’ll be so much fun, yeah you never come out with us and you could use a night to get loose, not like slutty loose but like fun loose. But I mean like, you could get slutty loose if you wanted, no judgement,_ She’d finally agreed. And then came the preparation. It had been quite some time since she had gotten ready for a night out with other people, but her bunk mates insisted, this was the way it had to be done. _Oh no, you can’t wear that, wear this. It’ll look so good on you. My boobs are always falling out of it, so I think it’ll fit you just fine._ She shook her head. The top she wore left little to the imagination, and though at one point in her life she would have relished in the attention it was bringing her, she was about five minutes from ripping off the arm of the next man who dared grab her ass without her consent. 

She brushed against several too-sweaty bodies as she turned around, looking for her companions, who had seemingly disappeared. She sighed, shaking her head. She knew she should have stayed behind. The silk of her top felt foreign against her skin, the shiny material quite opposite of the soft linens and cotton she’d grown accustomed to. The music was too loud and her jeans were too tight, and this world, the world she once enjoyed and relished in was merely a ghost of a memory, and this new one forcefully thrust upon her against her will. Or, not completely against her will, she did agree to this debacle. She ran a hand through her hair, tossing it gently to one side, the short ends disobeying and falling back into place anyway. She sighed. Maybe she could just slip out unnoticed. As she took a step, she was squished between three people whom she did not know, or care to know. She frowned. Doubtful. 

As she attempted to slide closer to the exit of the bar, she felt a hand grace her lower back. Scowling at the person who dared touch her she whipped around to face them.

Her eyes grew wide in shock, and she let out a small gasp, breathing the name she dared not speak for far too long. 

“Tony.” 

She should have known it was him from the moment he touched her. His hands enveloped her small waist, holding on to her as they were jostled about on the dance floor. The stubble on his jaw was familiar, but from long ago. He had lost weight since she’d seen him last. It was obvious in every feature that he’d been hitting the gym since she’d left. She could feel the strength in his arms as he gripped her. She gazed up at him, taking in every feature of the face that had occupied so many of her thoughts, her dreams. He looked taller than she remembered for some reason, as though he was towering over her. She stopped to contemplate if he was always so tall, or if the stern furrow of his brow was making her feel like she could shrink down into the floor and disappear. 

He gazed down at her, frown set in his mouth, and a spark of mischief in his eyes. The heat of his body was intoxicating. She thought perhaps their time apart would tamper her body’s reaction to him, but it seemed as though it were true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Her heart beat in tandem with the music, the beat picking up and up until she thought she might explode just standing there, silent in his arms. He squeezed her hips as a man bumped into him, pushing him even closer to her. Her chest was practically pressed against his, and his closeness was overwhelming. He leaned down to her, nearly yelling in her ear over the music. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” She cocked her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her face. He smirked. “I mean, I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I could say the same for you.” she shouted back. 

She wasn’t sure what else to say. She fumbled over herself for a moment, trying to come up with the right words, but there were none. The ease that came with their partnership had long since faded, and left were the few tight words they could muster. There were so many things to be said, and she didn’t think a single one could be hashed out in the middle of a nightclub. She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and began to push her way through the crowd of bodies, pulling him along behind her. 

As soon as they left the club, she took a breath of fresh air. The heat was barely less than in the club, but the lack of sweat and humidity in the air was a refreshing change of pace. Breaking through yet another wall of bodies, they silently walked around the side of the building, still hand in hand. He was the first to pull away, allowing himself a few feet of distance from her. Her face fell when he stepped away, and he could tell that she was saddened by the distance. And while it was taking every ounce of willpower in his body not to just grab her and crush her to him, there were things that needed to be said.

“I like the new ‘do. Did you get tired of it long or something?” 

She ran her hands through her hair, nervous energy radiating from her. “I just…needed a change.” 

“You’ve been going through a lot of those lately.” 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, never one for dilly dallying. 

“Why is that always the first question you ask me?” 

“It is not always the first question.” 

“Some incarnation of it, yeah.” 

“I suppose it is just always the first thing I would like to know. And you still have not answered my question.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For someone who wanted to change, he really wasn’t seeing it. 

“Would you believe I’m here to talk to Orli in person about the air strikes on Gaza?” 

Her eyes widened. “Vance sent you?” 

“Yup. Apparently she’s taken a liking to me much more quickly than her predecessor.” 

She nodded knowingly. 

“What about you? What brings you back to Israel? Or did you ever leave?” 

“No, I did. I spent some time in Iraq, Syria, Jordan, I even went to Italy and Greece for a little while.” She said with a smile. 

“So what brings you back?” 

“Would you believe the same reason you are here?” 

His eyes widened in surprise, mouth twisting into a frown. 

“I have been working with refugees, Tony. I have been going from place to place working at camps and shelters, trying to help people who have been displaced, or abused as casualties of war. And it has not been an easy task. But seeing what is happening here, in my home country…it was too much to bear. I came to speak to Orli, to see if there was anything she could do to put an end to it.” 

“I thought you were trying to get away from the violence?” 

“I was. I am,” She said, looking directly into his eyes. “But there are times that you must do things you do not wish to do for the greater good.” 

He licked his lips, floored that this conversation had turned so quickly. He looked at her, incredulous. They were really going to do this. 

“Leaving you there wasn’t for the greater good, Ziva. It wasn’t better for you, and it certainly wasn’t better for me.” 

“I thought it was the right thing to do.” 

“Do you still think it was the right thing to do?” 

“Most days. Some are harder than others,” she said with a shrug.

“It’s been a year, you know,” he said. 

“I know.” 

“You didn’t call.” 

“I know.”

“Why is that? Did you forget my number?” 

“No,” 

“Were you for some reason completely cut off from phones and the internet?” 

“At times, but in general…no,” she said, shame coloring her tone. 

“Then what the hell, Ziva, because I thought that we parted on relatively good terms.” 

“We did,” she confirmed. 

“I thought you were going to find yourself, and at least let me know how you were doing,” He said, his voice and thinly veiled anger escalating. 

“I was…” She said before he cut her off. 

“I didn’t spend four months of my life scouring the fucking desert looking for you just so you could leave and never talk to me again.” 

She stared back at him in silence. The force of his words cut like a knife, and she fought the urge to step back, to give in to the shame she should be feeling. Instead she sured her jaw, clenching her teeth and bit back the retort that nearly came flying off her tongue. He stared her down, frustration in his wide eyes, tension set in his jaw. As they stood in contention, she let out a sigh, anger falling from her features. The tension left her body, and she slowly licked her lower lip, giving herself a moment to think of what to say that didn’t sound completely inadequate. 

“I was going to call,” she started slowly. “I wanted to as soon as you left. But I was afraid that if I heard your voice I would run back to DC, to you, and I could not let myself do that. Not yet. So I did not. And then more time passed and I cannot count the number of times I almost picked up the phone, or dialed your number without pressing send, but I was not sure what to say,” she pressed her fingers together, worrying her hands, just like she always did when they were in the middle of discussing their feelings. “So I put it off, and then I thought perhaps I had waited too long. That maybe you did not want to hear from me after so much time. So I did not call.” 

He took a step sideways, one hand on his hip, the other gesticulating “Do you realize how insane that sounds?” 

“Now that you are standing here in front of me, yes.” 

He ran his hands through his hair as he walked towards her, grasping her biceps, “Ziva, you’re my best friend. I’ll always be happy to hear from you, no matter what or where or when.” 

“I assure you it seemed perfectly reasonable at the time,” She said sheepishly. 

He sighed, nodding slowly. He was sure that somewhere in her slightly self-deprecating mind it did. 

“I missed you,” she murmured.

He pulled her to his chest, hugging her tight. She buried her nose into his neck, breathing in the scent of him she’d wished lingered longer in her life. His voice was quiet but rough in her ear. 

“I missed you, too. You have no idea.” 

He kissed her temple softly, and then her cheek. She pulled away slowly, and he kissed the corner of her mouth. He drew his head back to meet her eyes, and she smiled just as their lips met, as though they could have resisted. The aches in their chests, so wrought with longing and regret started to ebb away as they stood kissing in the street. She opened her mouth to him, he tongue stroking his. She fought the urge to moan as his hand tangled in her hair and he took control of the kiss. It had been far too long since she’d been held like this by him. She didn’t want to let him go. 

“Ziva! There you are!” She heard from behind her. She disconnected from Tony quickly, turning to face her long lost companions. 

“Oh geez…we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Marisa said with a smirk. “We’re headed back. Are you coming?” 

She felt Tony’s hand snake around her stomach, pulling her back to him. She looked back at him, and he met her with a lustful smile. 

“No,” She said without looking away from him. “I will be back tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Marisa teased “Have fun.” The girls turned away, headed back to their temporary home.

“She will!” Tony called after them. 

“Tony!” she admonished without any conviction.

“What, do you think you’re not gonna have fun?” 

“No, I am sure I will, but they do not need to know that.” He turned in the direction of his hotel, taking her hand along the way. 

“They’re gonna ask you all about it anyway. Stud like me coming in and sweeping you off your feet,” he said, cocky smile on his face.

“That does not mean they will get details. And I do not recall being swept off my feet,” she teased.

“All you have to do is ask, Miss David.” Without any warning, he dropped her and and literally swept her off her feet, picking her up bridal style. 

“Tony! Put me down!” she laughed. 

“Nope. You requested it, I’m here to deliver.” 

“You know I could feasibly drop you in this position,” she said

“I know. But you won’t.” 

“And why is that?” she asked with a giggle

“Well for one, you’re going for peace and serenity and all that, you wouldn’t bring out those ninja skills on me anymore, and two, because you’re enjoying it.” He leaned in and kissed her quickly. 

She blushed. “How far is your hotel?”

“Not far.” 

“Okay.” She clasped her hands behind his neck and settled in for the ride. 

——

The next morning, Ziva woke deliciously sated to a suspiciously empty bed. She sat up, confused. She was expecting to wake up with him. To kiss him good morning, and goodbye. She felt around next to her, and the sheets were rumpled and barely warm. She couldn’t hear the shower going, or anyone shuffling around the room. She sighed. He was gone. She got up from the bed, leaving everything behind. As she walked to the bathroom, she caught sight of a note on the desk in the corner. 

_Ziva,_

_I know you’re waking up without me. I’m really sorry about that. There were some urgent updates I had to get to at Mossad HQ and I didn’t want to wake you. You look so beautiful when you’re sleeping._

She rolled her eyes. He could be so cheesy. 

_Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true. It pains me to leave without kissing you one more time, but I didn’t want to do the big goodbye. We’ve done it, and it didn’t work out too well the last time. This is just easier, I think. If you woke up next to me, I don’t know what I would have done. But I know I don’t want to be the guy that’s always trying to convince you to love me. You have to come to it on your own. I get that now._

_Hopefully someday soon that will be a reality. Hopefully someday you’ll be able to come home to me. Until that day comes, I want you to remember one thing. I love you, Ziva David. I don’t know why I didn’t say it before. But if we’re going to be apart, I need you to know that it’s true. That I’ll always be wherever it is you need me to be._

_I love you always,_

_Tony_

She put the note down and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. The last thing she needed was to smudge his words to her. As she brushed the tears away, she saw a spot of black on her palm. She lifted it up to inspect it and laughed despite herself. 

_555-0172_

_Just in Case_

His phone number. She shook her head, laughing. Partly because she couldn’t believe she didn’t wake up when he wrote it, and partly because she couldn’t forget his phone number if she tried. But as she peered down at the half-smudged numbers on her hand, she knew that their lives would be different. She would make sure of it.


	4. Where's my shirt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Where's my shirt? Originally written about 7 years ago. It's been given a little spruce since then.

He woke surrounded by the smell of her. His face buried in her hair, his hand gently resting on her stomach. He took a deep breath, trying to just take her in. He thought for a moment it may all have been a dream, that maybe even in that moment he was hallucinating it all, driven mad by her absence. But he felt her body pressed completely against his, his bed no bigger than before she left, and he just knew she was real. That they were _finally_ real after too long apart. 

He sighed into her hair once again, stroking her stomach gently with his thumb. She had shown up at his door the night before, a year after she had decided to stay in Israel. As soon as he saw her his lips were on hers. They’d finally decided not to deprive themselves of each other a moment longer, and left a trail of clothes to the bedroom to prove it. 

He nuzzled his nose further into her now voluminous curls and squeezed her just a little bit tighter. He felt her breathe deeply against him, and hoped that he hadn’t woken her up. She looked so peaceful, he couldn’t bear waking her. 

It was then that he heard a knock at his door. He groaned softly, hoping that he was just imagining the intrusion. A few seconds later the knock began once again, much more persistently than the first. Dropping a kiss to Ziva’s head, he climbed gently out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and answered the door. 

“What?” he asked irritably, eyes half open. 

“You tell me, DiNozzo." 

Tony’s eyes snapped open

"Boss! What are you doing here.” He said as Gibbs strode into his apartment. 

“Well my senior field agent is three hours late to work and didn’t answer his phone." 

Tony’s expression went blank, knowing that he had left his cell in his pants pocket, and his pants were…around here somewhere. 

"You’d better have a damn good explanation, DiNozzo." 

Tony scrambled to come up with an excuse that didn’t involve making love to Ziva many many times, but he was at a disadvantage knowing that there were clothes strewn carelessly about his apartment. It didn’t help knowing that at any moment Ziva would be waking up without him. 

"Well…I know there’s never a good excuse to be late to work, boss. That being said…" 

"Tony, where’s my shirt?” he heard Ziva call from the bedroom. “Have you seen it? Or are you hiding it because you would like me to walk around without it?" He stood completely still, knowing they were caught. He heard her walking out of the bedroom and into the living room, her voice drawing closer. "If you do not answer me I will have to steal one of yours.” 

His eyes snapped to her immediately as she rounded the corner, taking in her beautiful body, clad in only her bra and a pair of plaid boxers she'd claimed as her own years ago. The seductive look she was giving him was significantly diminished by the fact that Gibbs was standing right next to him, his eyes wide in surprise. It was only milliseconds later that he saw her eyes go wide when she noticed for the first time that they were not alone. 

"Gibbs."

"Ziver," he said, his face schooled back to neutral despite his amusement.

“I'm going to...” she trailed off, pointing back the way she came. She turned quickly and headed back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

Seconds later, Gibbs rounded on him. 

“So, Ziva’s here.” Tony said lamely. 

“I can see that. When did she get here?" 

"Last night." 

"Were you planning on telling me she was back?" 

"Yeah, of course I was. I just…honestly I hadn't thought that far ahead." 

Gibbs gave him a sympathetic look. "You’re not the only one who missed her, Tony." 

"I know,” he replied. 

Gibbs nodded sharply “I want both of you in the office in an hour," 

"But boss…" 

"An hour and a half. Shower first." 

Tony’s face lit up.

"Separately.” Gibbs barked. 

His face immediately fell and he nodded in confirmation. 

Gibbs nodded sharply back before taking his leave, a mischievous smile on his face.


	5. Why do you even have this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Why do you even have this? Originally posted about 7 years ago. This one is basically a drabble but I don't hate it, so here ya go.

“Ziva, have you seen my reading glasses?” he asked, frustrated. He hated that he had to wear the damn things anyway. It just served to remind him that he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

“They should be in the top drawer of my bedside table,” she said. 

“And why would that be?” he teased. 

“Because that is where you left them, my love,” she said as she gave him a peck on the cheek. 

He rummaged through the drawer for a moment before he found his glasses. He smiled in victory when something else in the drawer caught his attention. He pulled out a scrap of paper with a doodle he had drawn several years ago of Ziva as a ninja with a paperclip. He looked at it quizzically for a moment before holding it up for Ziva to see. 

“What’s this?" 

"It is a drawing you did for me, do you not remember?”

“No, I remember I drew it, but I then remember getting punched in the arm when you saw it over my shoulder." 

"Oh. I apologize, however I suspect you did something else to deserve it during the day." 

"I thought I threw this out. Why do you even have this?" 

"You did not throw it out. I took it from your desk when you went to get lunch. I am quite fond of it." 

"That’s not the impression I got when I drew it." 

"Well that’s not the impression I could give you when you drew it. It was only my first year at NCIS, Tony. I could not let you think I liked you quite yet." 

"Like me or _like me_ like me?”

"What are you, 12 years old?"

"You did, you liked me liked me." 

"My judgement was obviously impaired." 

"You liked me and you were embarrassed." 

"Of course I was, I was 23 and you were obnoxious."

"And yet not so obnoxious that it would stop you from wanting to break off a piece of DiNozzo." 

"It is times like this I wonder what on earth could I possibly have been thinking," she said with a chuckle.

He walked around the side of their bed to her dresser, where she was placing her earrings in a jewelry box he'd gotten her for their anniversary. 

"Did you really like me all the way back then?" he asked softly.

"Does it matter? I love you now." 

"That you do,” he said, leaning down to kiss her chastely “and I love you, too."


End file.
